His Only Truth
by StuckInMyDaydream
Summary: Mainly John thinking about Sherlock. A short insight of what's going on in our favourite army doctor's head. (One-sided) Johnlock.


**Another short One-Shot. I hope you enjoy it! Reviews are appreciated and I apologize for any mistakes! ** **:)** So desirable, yet so utterly unreachable. That were the first few words that would come to John Watson's mind when asked about Sherlock Holmes. Afterwards his mind was flooded with dozens and dozens of images and wordsthat in his perception fit the detective and if you were willing to listen he could give you an amazingly detailed explanation of why those words were the first and what would have to be added when talking about the man.  
Of course one could argue John was biased. And hell he was! Sherlock was not only his best friend, no, as a matter of fact John was absolutely and madly in love with him. No fault. No exit. Still taking that into consideration it was nothing less than fascinating to get to see the world's only consulting detective and how John would say only, true, one-of-a-kind genius from a perspective, that grants you a small insight on who Sherlock was when he wasn't the enigmatic mastermind: a person who could be loved. Simple and pure as that.  
So what are the mechanics behind that undying love John had developed for Sherlock? (God it still sounded so silly and unreal in John's head)  
John would follow Sherlock anywhere. He trusted him with everything he could gather together. Opposed to what one could now assume John did not, did most certainly not, trust easily. Why the hell trust Sherlock Holmes out of all people then? Many people would dispose the thought alone as reckless. But couldn't they see that John had reasons to put such great trust in the detective? That Sherlock had earned it, that he furthermore deserved it? He had proven in both distant and recent past that he was worth John's trust. That he would never use it against him. And John was so grateful for that. Not only for Sherlock not misusing his trust, but for allowing him to place it inthe detective in the first place.  
And he praised him. God, yes he praised him a lot. Sure he was aware that he did that out loud. That people thoughtit was unnecessary, exaggerated and slowly becoming ridiculous. So what? No, seriously! SO WHAT? John thought Sherlock's deductions were brilliant. Amazing. And yes still after all this time truly extraordinary. He meant that. He hadn't said it to curry favour with Sherlock. And if that was his opinion he was allowed to bloody well voice it!  
Not that Sherlock minded too. John was aware that he at the very least appreciated it. John loved to see how it gave the man a kind of confidence that couldn't be compared to his arrogance or the kind of self-esteem that radiated around him when he had solved a particularly difficult murder. It was something more natural and it looked good on him.  
Like his smile. Sherlock did not smile a lot. He did it for show, he did it to speed up the process of solving a case. Andsometimes he smiled because he was happy. It made that already pretty handsome -and hot for that matter- man absolutely and stunningly beautiful. When Sherlock smiled it was sheer beauty. The earth stopped turning, the sun stopped burning, galaxies stopped twirling, stars stopped dying and the freakin' universe stopped expanding when Sherlock smiled. Well...to John. And when that happened he would look into the detective's eyes, gorgeous eyes always changing their color, and for the fraction of a moment Sherlock would allow John to see him. To truly see him. See him like no one would ever get to see him.  
It was the moment John realized that he was in love with Sherlock when he first saw the true brightness an honestythe detective could put into a single smile. Yes now he was kind of acting like a teenage girl, but John liked to think that this particular, gorgeous smile was reserved for him, and him alone. That he was the only one allowed to see Sherlock like that.  
That thought always made his heart flutter and him immensely happy. And it reminded him that really Sherlock Holmes and life at 221B Baker Street was the only truth he needed. That even would Sherlock never return his feelings -which was after all highly probable- he would stay by his side. Again many people thought that was crazy. That he was giving himself a death sentence by deciding to live with Sherlock Holmes. Battle field, high-functioning sociopath and all that stuff were after all included in that deal. And oh John was so sick of it. Sick of them talking. Sick of them throwing disgusted glances. Just so sick of these people. But everytime John was about to explode Sherlock unwillingly found a way to calm him, to make him stop thinking about them. Because after all they didn't matter. Everything that mattered were the two of them. John and Sherlock. Against the rest of the world. 


End file.
